Altered State
by Litheran
Summary: Spike and Giles bond over the shared knowledge of what it's like to be a demon. Silly and absurd, but what can you do.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Angel, but Faith could own me anytime she wants.**

**Summary: Silly little story, Giles and Spike have a drink or two Post-A new man. They discuss what it feels like to be a demon.**

**Warning: If you can't handle a severely inebriated Giles, I suggest you turn away.**

From the look of Willy's it would seem to be your ordinary demon bar, creatures of different size, shape and color milling about. The vamps talking big, declaring how they would be the one to finally get the slayer. Willy was polishing glasses, although the rag he was using was hardly if ever washed, and all it succeeded in doing was make a greasy film cover the entire glass. The usual game of kitten poker was going on in the back, the sounds of the meowing causing many of the demons to wet their lips.

Suddenly the front door burst open, many of the demons hurried to see if it was the slayer, coming for information, or just looking to slaughter them. They were surprised to see Spike, the resident Judas of Sunnydale. They all despised him, but few ever voiced their disgust, less they wind up being stomped to death by his Doc Martens. Directly behind him was Giles, smiling and waving to all the demons in attendance. He stepped forward and bowed, as if he was attending a ball.

"Ello lads, Shpike 'n I were just lamenting the loss of my liquor cabinet...(burp)... which it seems I smashed while I was in the state of a Fyarl, luckily there was one or two bottles of twelve year ole' single malt Scotcccchhhhh left."

Giles straightened, finding the word sctoch utterly fascinating.

"Scotch...ssccoottcchh, scotty scot scot scotch scotch...(burp)..."

Spike rolled his eyes, seizing the watcher by the arm he dragged him to his usual booth, close enough to the door, in case they tried to ambush them, and close enough to the back in case the slayer showed up. He didn't think miss high and mighty would appreciate him getting her father figure sloshed, than proceeding to drag him all around Sunnydale, attempting to drink away their problems.

"Listen here Rupes, I'm gonna grab some booze, jus' make yourself comfortable."

Spike sauntered up to the bar, pushing in between two very large demons who hissed as he pushed them aside. Spike gave them both a good hard look, and they decided quite quickly, that it was in their best interest to find different seats. He signaled Willy over, slapping a twenty on the bar.

"Your finest whiskey, and two glasses, make it quick."

Willy tossed the rag over his shoulder, grabbed a ledger out from under the bar, and glanced at it quickly before stuffing it back and grabbing the twenty.

"This still don't cover your tab from the other night, I ain't running a charity here ya know."

He grabbed a bottle and two glasses, putting them on the bar.

Spike seized them up, pawing them like a bear on a fish.

"I always pay my debts Willy, you can ask anyone here."

Willy just shook his head, grabbing a beer for one of the other patrons.

"Yeah, that or ya just brain 'em. You ain't very good at the whole diplomacy thing you know."

Spike smiled knowingly.

"I said ask anyone here mate, din't I. Now, got any news I need to report back to the slayer."

Willy threw the towel back onto his shoulder, so fast it actually slapped him on the back.

"Why don't you tell her I ain't no snitch."

Spike leaned over the bar, grabbing Willy by the shirt and pulling him to where he could whisper in his ear.

"Either you spill to me, or you spill to her, and we both know the lady would have already started hitting you by now, That diplomatic enough for ya."

Spike sat back down and grinned as Willy informed him of the gossip and rumors going through the demon community. Meanwhile Giles had busied himself with tapping the chorus from Bohemian Rhapsody onto his table. A vampire walked up to the table, a fledgling, still dressed in his burial clothes. He sniffed at Giles neck causing the former librarian to squirm and regard the new arrival.

He stuck out his hand, offering it as a sign of welcome.

"How do you do, my name is Rupert Giles?"

The vamp looked quizzically at him, not understanding why a human would be in what his new friends told him was purely for demons.

"What'ya doing here gramps? There's a human bar two blocks down."

Giles stood up grasping the demon by his shoulder, he waved around the room.

"Me and my friend wanted to immerse ourselves in the more colorful side of the city."

"Yeah, well I think it's time you ran along, unless you want me using your skull to hold my keys."

Giles looked deflated at this, seeing his chance to spark a kinship had been lost.

"I do say dear lad...(burp)...why ever would you say such a thing?"

The vampire brisked at smelling Giles breath, the man had put away enough liquor to open up an entire cheerleading teams legs.

"Because you don't belong here, this place is for demons only!"

Giles nodded, a grin coming to his lips.

"And I will have you know, just up until a few hours ago, I was a demon myself. A Fyarl actually, so lets say we have a drink, and bury the stake."

The bloodsucker mused over his statement, noticing his odd choice of words.

"Don't you mean bury the hat..."

He didn't have time to finish though, because Spike rammed a pool cue through his back, breaking it off, causing the sharp point to pierce his ribcage and his heart. He exploded with a silent whoosh, Spike looked up at a rather sullen looking watcher.

"Bloody pillock woun't have a drink with me."

Spike looked around the bar, seeing many of the demons had reached the point where Spike's reputation for maiming anyone who so much as gave him the evil eye, just wasn't enough to keep them from gaining up on him and the watcher.

"Yea, well I don't think were welcome anymore Rupes, lets go."

Spike patted Giles on the back, moving towards the door, eying any demon who might halt their progress. Suddenly the demons gasped and averted their eyes as the sound of running water filled the dank, dark room. Spike looked over his shoulder, mortified at what he saw.

Giles was pissing on the vamp's ashes.

A\N: I was gonna make this a one note song, but I think it could last another chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Angel, but Faith could own me anytime she wants.**

**Summary: Silly little story, Giles and Spike have a drink or two Post-A new man. They discuss what it feels like to be a demon.**

**Warning: If you can't handle Spike and Giles being awkwardly cordial to each other.**

Spike strode across the room, grabbing Giles by the collar. He dragged him towards the door, snatching the bottle of whiskey along the way.

"Shhpike, he was trying to take the piss on me."

Giles caught the dual meaning of his utterance as Spike pulled him out the door. He broke into a severe giggling fit as the door closed behind them.

**Some time later – Rest field cemetery**

Spike had kept the bottle of whiskey concealed inside his duster since they left Willies. Giles had begun charging at him in a vain attempt to grab it. Spike easily sidestepped every tackle, the scene resembling a matador's dance with a bull every time the coat flew over Giles head.

Eventually the vamp decided it wasn't worth the bother and just handed the bottle over, after taking a generous pull himself. Rupert took a seat and rested his back against a tombstone, gulping the whiskey down as if here dying of thirst.

"You keep drinking like this mate, and I might actually start to respect you."

Giles head rolled to the side, regarding the vampire as if he were an apparition that had just appeared.

"Jus' because 'm old enough to be your great grandson, doesn't make me an old man."

The absurd logic of this statement did the trick in causing the watchers brain to stall. He handed the bottle back to the master vampire he had chosen as his drinking companion. Being around his charges felt wrong at the moment. He could still feel the lingering effects of the spell Ethan had cast. It wasn't safe for them if he should have a bout of demon rage.

"You sobering up on me Ripper?"

Giles fell out of his internal dialogue and locked eyes with Spike.

"Not if you've got more liquor stashed away."

Spike extended a hand to Giles, the latter feeling slightly odd grasping the formers leather clad arm. Back on his feet, the world started to twist a little as if the angle of the land had been switched. Spike sensed the temporary vertigo and his arm shot out to steady his fellow Englishman.

Giles held out his arm and gestured for him to take the lead.

"Age before beau…bea…age first."

Spike led them across the grass to the entrance of his crypt. Opening the steel door he stepped inside and left the Watcher to follow. Giles felt a momentary apprehensive feeling about going inside, but decided that for once, Spike had earned the benefit of the doubt. Walking inside he was compounded by the fact that while dreary and gothic, the area suited Spike's loner persona.

Spike disappeared down a hole in the floor, coming back with an unmarked bottle and a bag of something, which looked suspiciously like oregano. He jumped up on one of the sarcophagi and went about rolling a doobie.

Giles thought about remarking on the fact that he no longer partook in that leisure activity. But the Ripper in him decided to throw caution to the wind. Going over to stand next to the sarcophagus, he inhaled the smell of the marijuana and was taken back to his days as a bad ass chaos wielding youth.

"So w'at you think of the digs Rupe."

Giles opened his eyes to see the vampire light the joint and take a rather long pull off of it.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, it's the most depressing space I've ever been in."

"Funny, I feel the same about your apartment."

Spike handed the joint over and stretched out on the coffin. The watcher took a small hit, barely managing to keep from sputtering at the harsh smoke as it went down his throat.

"I am curious, without the ability to breathe, how do you get high?"

"Hells if I know, if it's so that we can't breathe, how do we talk?"

Giles thought about this for a moment, straining to come up with an answer worthy of an Englishman's response.

"Maybe your not talking, maybe I just think your talking."

Both Englishman fell into a fit of hysterics as the laced weed attacked their senses.

**Authors note: I can't promise more chapters, cause it's hard enough writing my own stuff, let alone delving into other peoples work. But I do see some promise in this story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Angel, but Faith could own me anytime she wants.**

**Summary: Silly little story, Giles and Spike have a drink or two Post-A new man. They discuss what it feels like to be a demon.**

**Warning: If you can't handle Spike and Giles being awkwardly cordial to each other, too bad.**

"I'm fucking starving man; I'd settle for a freaking midget right now."

"I think there must be finals tomorrow man, all the teenagers are busy studying."

The two vamps stalked the rows of graves, doing their best to look imposing. Sadly this was undone by the fact that every few seconds they would turn in all directions looking for men in black suits.

"Dude, lets just go to the gas station, well snatch a cashier and head home. I don't want to be out here any longer."

"Come on bro, those initiative guys are hunting the other side of town, Larry said they sweep Restfield first."

"Larry doesn't know his ass from his mouth!"

Both bloodsuckers froze as they heard music coming out of a crypt towards the edge of the cemetery.

"What's that?"

"I think its The Who."

"I don't know."

"No you dumbest, the band is called The Who."

"What do you think's going on?"

"Probably some goth kids holding a seance or something lame like that."

"I hate goth kids, they always taste like stale coffee."

"Better than nothing."

The two kicked open the door to the crypt, stepping in they became aware that someone was smoking some really good weed. Next they realized that these were not teens holding a seance.

Spike jumped up from where he was sitting on the sarcophagus. He gestured back and forth between the two younger vamps as he inched towards them.

"Hey...you boys wouldn't happen to have any funguns would you?"

Both men looked at each other in astonishment, looking back at what they could tell was a much older vampire.

"No man, we ain't got any funguns."

"Bloody hell!"

The duo jumped in fear at the outburst from their elder.

Giles popped up from the recliner, which was facing away from the door; his shirt was off and tied over his head like a bonnet.

"Don't you lads know when you are a visitor in another persons home, you always bring funguns!"

"Settle down Rupes, these boys are from a younger generation. They can't help the fact that they got piss poor manners."

"Well if they were my kids I'd put them over my knee and give them a stern pattle. And don't even speak to me Spike, I should have known better than to accept a joint from a master vampire. I haven't done LSD since the 70's."

"For the hundredth bloody time watcher 'm sorry, besides it's just a little bit."

"To a demon, I on the other hand am human and right now I can't feel my teeth."

One of the vamps at the door cleared his throat to gain their attention.

"What?"

"You're Spike."

"Too bloody right." Spike perked up at finding out his reputation had managed to find it's way to the younger vamps.

"My sire told me about you, said those initiative guys put something in your head. Also said it makes it so you can't get violent."

"Yeah, I heard about that, I guess that means if we wanted to snack on your friend here, you couldn't do jack about it."

Giles grabbed the bottle nearest to him and smashed it over the back of the recliner.

"Now see here you rude foul little creatures, if you wont behave yourselves I'll have no choice but to jam this up your arse and force the other to drink what comes out."

To say the vamps at the door were surprised would be an understatement. But it was the blonde one dressed all in black who was truly awestruck.

"Well boys, if you want to tussle with the ex-librarian here, feel free."

No sooner than the words came out did the first vamp rush Giles, aiming for his midsection to try and knock him down. Calmly Giles sidestepped the clumsy rush and jammed the broken bottle into the vamps face as he passed by. As the fledge fell to the ground in agony the second one tried a different approach; mainly picking up a rock and throwing it right at Giles head. Before it could make contact however a hand snatched it out of the air. Spike tossed the rock back and forth between both hands as he addressed the newbie undead.

"S'not very sporting to try and brain someone; especially if your not willing to do it up close and personal. I don't know what sort of fanged reject would turn a prat like you. But clearly they're not up on current events. See I can't hurt humans; said chip gives me a blinding headache ever I try. But if I were to come across another vampire; that'd be a different story mate. So you have to ask yourself; is your demon bigger than mine?"

Spike brought out his game face as he said this; snarling as his eyes smiled. Of course the other vamp didn't get the hint and attempted to bum rush him. Spike rolled his eyes and brought the rock in his hand down squarely on top of the vamps head. The impact made a sickening crunch sound as the skull got bashed open. Both watcher and vampire made quick work of the two now that they were incapacitated.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses with his shirt, his eyes deep in thought.

"Thank you Spike."

Spike switched back to his human visage as he used a broom to collect the remains of the two vamps.

"What exactly you thanking me for Rupes? Cause I expect you to throw in for the weed."

Giles smirked as he turned his head to the side and stammered over the first few words.

"T..thank you f. coming to my aid."

Both men felt immediately sober at this exchange. Spike dumped the ashes in the waste bin and tossed the broom in the corner.

"S'nothing; slayer would have me kissing sunlight anything happened to you. Besides, we brits have to stick together; isn't that right?"

Giles smiled at Spike attempting to downplay his own heroism.

"Quite, I must say the chip has done wonders for your personality."

"Yeah, well don't count on it being a permanent fixture of my cranium. Some day I'll get it out and well go right back to trying to kill each other."

Most people would become somber at the turn in the conversation, being English though neither man seemed to change at all. Giles took the shirt off his head and carefully put it back on.

"Perhaps we should call it a night; I think enough time has passed for there to be little chance of me becoming dangerous."

Spike nodded apathetically and went about cleaning up the festivities the night had wrought. Giles cleared his throat as he made his way to the door.

"You know Spike; you may feel restrained by what the initiative did to you; surely it must feel as if you are being denied your free will. But there is another way to look at it."

Spike lit a cigarette and gestured around at his life in general.

"How exactly should I look at this Rupes?"

"Perhaps it isn't holding back your demon, so much as it is freeing whatever humanity is still inside you."

"Come on watcher; you know as well as I do when you're turned all that's left is a corpse. That's what you and your council been telling slayers for years, right?"

Giles opened the door, regarding Spike with a paternal stare.

"We tell ourselves what we want to believe."

Giles walked out, shutting the door behind him. Spike took a drag off his cigarette and tossed it into the corner. He than said to the empty crypt.

"I don't know what I want to believe."

**A/N: This is the end of Altered States; but I had another story I've been working on. And I feel this would be a good intro. The next part will be titled "Reborn"; Spike has always been an oddity among vampires; perhaps his destiny is to be more than just the big bad. I will be going back and forth between the new story and Beginning of the End.**


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